There was a nice lady, a minister’s widow, who was a little old fashioned. She was planning a week’s vacation in California at Skylake Yosemite campground (Bass Lake, to the uninitiated), but she wanted to make sure of the accommodation first. Uppermost in her mind were bathroom facilities, but she couldn’t bring herself to write “toilet” in a letter. After considerable deliberation, she settled on “bathroom commode,” but when she wrote that down, it still sounded too forward, so, after the first page of her letter, she referred to the bathroom commode as “BC.” “Does the cabin where I will be staying have its own ‘BC’? If not, where is the ‘BC’ located?” is what she actually wrote.

The campground owner took the first page of the letter and the lady’s check and gave it to his secretary. He put the remainder of the letter on the desk of the senior member of his staff without noticing that the staffer would have no way of knowing what “BC” meant. Then the owner went off to town to run some errands.

The staff member came in after lunch, found the letter, and was baffled by the euphemism, so he showed the letter around to several counselors, but they couldn’t decipher it either. The staff member’s wife, who knew that the lady was the widow of a famous Baptist preacher, was sure that it must be a question about the local Baptist Church. “Of course,” the first staffer exclaimed, “’BC’ stands for ‘Baptist Church,’” and he sat down and wrote:

Dear Madam,

I regret very much the delay in answering your letter, but I now take the pleasure in informing you that the BC is located nine miles north of the campground and is capable of seating 250 people at one time. I admit it is quite a distance away if you are in the habit of going regularly, but no doubt you will be pleased to know that a great number of people take their lunches along and make a day of it. They usually arrive early and stay late.

The last time my wife and I went was six years ago, and it was so crowded we had to stand up the whole time we were there. It may interest you to know that right now there is a supper planned to raise money to buy more seats. They are going to hold it in the basement of the ‘BC’.

I would like to say that it pains me very much not to be able to go more regularly, but it is surely no lack of desire on my part. As we grow older, it seems to be more of an effort, particularly in cold weather.

If you decide to come down to our campground, perhaps I could go with you the first time, sit with you, and introduce you to all the folks. Remember, this is a friendly community.

I heard about a traveler who, between flights at an airport, bought a small package of cookies. She then sat down in the busy snack shop to glance over the newspaper. As she read her paper, she became aware of a rustling noise. Peeking above the newsprint she was shocked to see a well-dressed gentleman sitting across from her, helping himself to her cookies. Half-angry and half-embarrassed, she reached over and gently slid the package closer to her as she took one out and began to munch on it.

A minute or so passed before she heard more rustling. The man had gotten another cookie! By now there was only one left in the package. Though flabbergasted, she didn’t want to make a scene so she said nothing. Finally, as if to add insult to injury, the man broke the remaining cookie into two pieces, pushed one piece across the table toward her with a frown, gulped down his half, and left without even saying thank you. She sat there dumbfounded.

Some time later when her flight was announced, the woman opened her handbag to get her ticket. To her shock, there in her purse was her package of unopened cookies. And somewhere in that same airport was another traveler still trying to figure out how that strange woman could have been so forward and insensitive. Assumptions are shaky things to rely on; situations are not always as they appear.

Levity and lightheartedness are glue that holds family members together. Families willing to laugh at funny stories about growing up are sure to forge a strong bond for the tough times.

We heard about a mother who decided to hold her squirming toddler in her lap during his first Muppet movie. Midway through, they lost control of a large Pepsi and a box of buttered popcorn. The gooey mixture flowed over the child into the mother’s lap. Since the movie was almost over, she decided to sit it out. What she didn’t know was that she and her son were being cemented together. When the movie ended, they stood up…and the mother’s wraparound skirt stuck to the bottom of the toddler, came unraveled, and followed him up the aisle. She stood there clutching her slip and thanking the Lord she had taken time to put one on!

Another mother wrote us about a little miscommunication involving her preschooler: “Perhaps there should be a uniform word for ‘potty’ when children have to go to the bathroom. My three-year-old has been taught to refer to that act as a ‘whisper.’ Well, his grandfather came to visit us, and in the middle of the night my son came to his bed and said, ‘Grandpa, I have to whisper.’ Not wanting to awaken his wife, he said, ‘Okay. Whisper in my ear.’” So the little boy did.

The telling and retelling of funny moments like these can connect families for generations. God created us with a sense of humor for a reason. We believe that He wants us to use it. - Copied - Dr. James Dobson

A member of a church, who previously had been attending services regularly, stopped going. After a few weeks, the preacher decided to visit him.

It was a chilly evening. The preacher found the man at home alone, sitting before a blazing fire. Guessing the reason for his preacher’s visit, the man welcomed him, led him to a comfortable chair near the fireplace and waited.

The preacher made himself at home but said nothing. In the grave silence, he contemplated the dance of the flames around the burning logs. After some minutes, the preacher took the fire tongs, carefully picked up a brightly burning ember and placed it to one side of the hearth all alone then he sat back in his chair, still silent.

The host watched all this in quiet contemplation. As the one lone ember’s flame flickered and diminished, there was a momentary glow and then its fire was no more. Soon it was cold and dead.

Not a word had been spoken since the initial greeting.

The preacher glanced at his watch and realized it was time to leave. He slowly stood up, picked up the cold, dead ember and placed it back in the middle of the fire. Immediately it began to glow, once more with the light and warmth of the burning coals around it.

As the preacher reached the door to leave, his host said with a tear running down his cheek, “Thank you so much for your visit and especially for the fiery sermon. I shall be back in church next Sunday!” As a member, you are missed greatly at God’s house!